Vague meanderings from an addled brain…

Posts Tagged ‘anxiety’

I was born in the year of Canada’s Centennial…1967. I’m a first generation Canadian born of English parents. I love the country in which I live and I am unabashedly proud to be Canadian as we celebrate the Sesquicentennial of this majestic country.

However…there is a darker side to this place I have called home all my life and the place that my parents chose as their home and to where they chose citizenship.

Canada is 150 years old…Turtle Island is thousands of years old…likely as old as all Creation. And while I think it’s wonderful to see red and white festooning communities and flags going up all over the place…special red and white tulips bred for our Sesquicentennial, we must remember the damamge that our citizens, settlers, all of them, have inflicted on our First Nations peoples.

I am honoured to live on the land of the Ktunaha in Southeastern British Columbia. There is a rich heritage of Indigenous history that surrounds our community…including an ancient curse that was finally lifted about 40 years ago…

Canadians built this country on the backs of those who were here before us…generations and generations before us…and we didn’t do it fairly, or appropriately. And yes, for much of that history we should be ashamed. The Church rounded up Indigenous children in conjunction with the federal government to “civilize” them by taking away their Indigenous names, culture, language, songs and dances. We committed cultural genocide. This was done in the name of God…

It’s a dark part of our history and there are other dark parts of our history…Interment camps in this region that began prior to and ended long after the First World War. The list goes on…

I’m not saying that we should celebrate 150 years of Confederation…I’m not saying that Canada isn’t the best country in the world, because I truly believe that. I believe that now, more than ever, because we are working to make amends with our brothers and sisters in the Indigenous community. We are learning from and working alongside to preserve First Nations languages that are in danger of extinction. Same with dances and songs, of traditional dress and food. We’re making amends, we’re beginning to understand that we weren’t here first…that we are guests on this land.

Last Sunday we recognized National Aboriginal Day of Prayer and it was a very powerful service where we prayed in the four directions, giving thanks to the sacred medicines of tobacco, cedar, sage and sweetgrass. We prayed with the four colours of yellow, red, black and white in the directions of East, South, West and North. We heard of the Creation of Turtle Island from the Great Creator and how those stories resonate so strongly with us even today.

This Sunday we will recognize 150 years of Confederation. We will sing God Save the Queen as well as O Canada and we will hear of how God is working through us as Canadians. We have every right to recognize our heritage as Canadians…but not on the strength of another culture and community. We have the right to wave our flag proudly, remembering on whose land we stand.

I have wrestled with how to celebrate the Sesquicentennial of Canada…similarly I have wrestled with how to celebrate my half-century birthday later in the year. This year I am presiding a memorial service and rose planting for the mother of a friend who died a month or so ago. I won’t be taking in fireworks because I don’t really like fireworks. But I will wander around the community, in an I Love Canada t-shirt and wave my national flag.

But I will also give thanks to the First Nations who were here first and who continue to bless the land on which I live. And so, I say O Canada…Migweech.

I went away last week for 5 days of retreat time on Vancouver Island with a friend of mine. The first two days were absolute bliss…we talked, we walked, we saw the sights together and enjoyed all that the community had to offer.

Wednesday we had a lazy start to the day then went to an open air market about an hour away for lunch and a wander around. Lunch was great, the market was fun and then we poked our heads through a doorway and explored some more market area. When we’d had enough wandering about we decided to head back to the car and meander back where we’d come from.

She was walking ahead of me down these long, wide stairs. There were four of them. I only stepped on three of them. I missed a step and fell hard onto my face. The bridge of my glasses was embedded into my forehead and I started to bleed. A lot. Caused quite a scene at this market. The bridge of my glasses is scratched up as is one of the lenses. I bled for quite some time. My forehead has an abrasion on it. As does both knees and my left hand.

The shock was incredible. I was handed clean serviettes and told to apply pressure. A zipper bag filled with ice was given me. I was examined by two nurses (one of whom was traveling with me). I was asked questions to determine how alert I was. I think I passed them all, at this point I can’t quite remember when I heard. What I do know is that I was embarrassed at how quickly it happened, what a scene I’d caused and what a mess my face had become.

My friend drove us to the hospital half way home. I waited an hour in emergency as the bleeding lessened and the swelling increased. I ended up in hospital for 3 1/2 hours and was treated very well. The nurses were helpful, the doctors were kind. I got a tetanus shot and got to experience skin glue. It burned as it was being applied but has done a great job of keeping the skin together as it heals. I’ll likely have a scar but it will be hidden by my glasses.

The good news is, nothing was broken. The unfortunate news was my body’s reaction to the shock. It’s now 4 days afterwards and I’m still feeling it.

I need new glasses.

The morning after the fall I woke feeling like I’d been hit by a car. Arms and legs ached. Face was swollen and sore. Jaw throbbing.

I contacted one of my Wardens and she made arrangements for the two services this morning to be covered. I slept in on a Sunday, something I haven’t done for a very, very long time.

Yesterday I went for a walk through the community. Not as long as I’d have liked to, but as long as my body would allow me.

So the benefit of this experience was that I have incredible friends. I have the best Wardens, Licensed Lay Ministers and congregation. I will heal from these scars. Eventually the pain will go away. Gravity is still not my friend. That’s not new, but it bears repeating.

Two days after the fall I had to fly home. I was terrified about the stairs into and out of the small airplanes on which I’d be flying. I took my time, accepted help when it was offered and made every single step. Yay me. It’s the small things, you know?

The flight had three parts to it, one of which I had to change planes. And the last leg of the flight was turbulent, but we survived it. After we landed I was helping the lady sitting in front of me put on her cardigan and she elbowed me in the nose. I saw stars. She apologised and I told her she didn’t cause the injury, it was already there. But yes, my nose hurts.

My friend collected me at the airport and I drove home. It was good to rest in my own bed. Bathe in my own tub. But until the glue falls off I can’t submerge my face or wash it properly. THAT is starting to bug me. But the wound will heal, the scar will get smaller and life will continue.

I do want to go back where I was on retreat, but not to that open market again…and I’ll be very wary of stairs, especially cement stairs, from now on.

All my life I’ve been an emotional eater…food was used as punishment and as reward. Over the winter my eating habits were atrocious…I would eat non-nutritional food far too often and usually I’d eat mindlessly. This winter was a tough one because I couldn’t get out and walk, which is one of my favourite forms of self-care.

So winter finally ended and Spring is trying really hard to get to the East Kootenays and especially the Elk Valley, but we’re getting there. I’ve discovered the trail system that links around and through the community. During Holy Week I discovered a new trail that I hadn’t hiked before and I hiked it. It rained and snowed, but I hiked it.

Easter Sunday I went out and hiked it again, and went a little bit farther. Again, it rained, but I hiked it.

I’ve been out every day this week (granted it’s only Wednesday) but each day I’ve gone a bit further or tried a new path or link.

Today was a crappy day. I had an argument with a friend and I can remember a time when I would have eaten my feelings, as much fat and salt as possible…the emptier the calories the better. But today I didn’t do that. I went for a walk instead and had a conversation with them (they weren’t with me, this conversation was in my head). Originally the walk was going to be around the block…and then it was to the end of the street…and then to part of the trail…and instead of turning back I kept going and walked/hiked a 5 km loop of trail and then came home again. I was gone just over an hour.

I learned today that I don’t have to eat my feelings. I can walk them. I’m still learning to feel my feelings, but today I learned a new way to express myself. It may not seem like a big deal to you, yet to me it’s huge.

I am strong. I am capable. I am in control of myself. And my food choices today have all been healthy. This is a good step in the right direction. I’m proud of me…and it isn’t often I say that.

Tomorrow is the 25th of January, Bell Canada’s “Let’s Talk” initiative to help quell the stigma of mental illness. Celebrities have recorded brief interviews and have stepped up in raising awareness of depression, anxiety, OCD, Bipolar disorder, etc.

As someone who struggles with depression and anxiety the past couple of months have been scary. I am a Canadian, and proud to be one. Our neighbours to the south elected a new President and it seems the world has been in a tailspin since. Every day the rhetoric increases, the attacks get more personal and social media is reaching a frenzy status on who is right and who is wrong.

What scares me is the increasing vitriolic hatred that both sides of the debate engage. There is hurt and anger and a decided lack of respect. There seems to be no acknowledgment of the other side as a human being. Memes spring up everywhere and there are veritable twitter wars and Facebook battles over who is right and who is wrong. Over who is telling the truth and who is lying.

We seem to have lost the respect of basic human dignity. Regardless of whether you are a supporter or protester of POTUS, we need to come together in unity. He needs to be held accountable. We need to ensure our voices are raised in unison. Can we please, please stop with the division and hatred.

I don’t like being told that as I woman “I must” feel a certain way or behave in a certain manner. I don’t appreciate being told as a Christian “I must” say certain things and if I fail to do so I am a disgrace to Christianity.

I am a child of God. So are you. So is POTUS. So is our Prime Minister. So is everyone we meet.

I’m tired of the anger. I’m tired of the hurt. I’m tired of the hatred. I want to join the revolution of love. I want to change the world with respect; with words of empowerment and love. I can and will change how I view the world by looking through lenses of love and respect.

I short, I refuse to hate.

My mental health is always fragile in January…I’m not really sure why…but it is and I tend to cocoon more than usual, trying to stay warm and safe.

I am blessed in being surrounded by people who love me. Who hold me when I cry, who bolster me when I struggle. Who check in because I am on their mind and in their heart. I am blessed to love many of those who surround me. And lately, I’ve begun to fall in love with myself.

I know I am not perfect. I never will be. And that’s okay. In God’s eyes I am created in perfection and that’s more than good enough for me.

There is a South African word, Ubuntu, that means “I am because you are”. In other words, I can’t be who I am without you. It doesn’t mean that everyone has to agree and think the same. It means we have the right and even the responsibility to disagree and hold one another accountable for our words and actions. It means we are all in this life together. It’s a way of living, an understanding, that is both powerful and profound.

If we embrace Ubuntu, perhaps we, together, can change this cruel world in which we live?

I struggle, at times, with depression and anxiety. Most of the time I can cope with medication, relaxation, proper diet, exercise and rest. Lately I’ve been feeling a bit overwhelmed, and it’s completely understandable why I’m feeling this way.

On Friday I’m having surgery. For the second time in my life I will go under general anesthetic. I’m not afraid of the surgery. The surgeon has reassured me that he anticipates the procedure will go well. The procedures I’m having are minor, taking 20 minutes in total. The anesthesiologist has reassured me that all shall be well. She asked if I was nervous and I said I wasn’t and smiled. She asked why I was smiling and I replied “if things don’t go well, it won’t be my problem…it will be yours. As you’ll get to tell my congregation”. And we both laughed.

What I fear is the unknown. Which is truly a silly thing to fear. And I participate in mental gymnastics…what if I get an infection…what if it takes me hours to come out of the anesthetic…what if something goes wrong? All legitimate questions, all with unknown answers. Try to explain that to my anxiety.

I’m not worried about the congregation. My Wardens and Licensed Lay Ministers will take care of everything in the parish. My Regional Dean will look after any pastoral emergencies. And still my innards flutter.

So, between now and Thursday morning when I find out the actual time of the surgery I will keep myself busy, which isn’t difficult to do. The difficult part is remembering to take time to breathe, to care for myself…to do everything I can to release the anxiety I feel.

I’m staying with a good friend in the community where I’m having the surgery to make sure that I properly rest and don’t overdo things. Left to my own devices I would push myself too hard and too soon. I’m told it will be approximately 10 days before I can return to work…I’m giving myself 14 days. And I fully anticipate returning to work at a bit slower pace then I am maintaining right now.

If you are a person who prays, I ask for your prayers for myself, and also for the doctor’s, nurses and support staff who will take care of me through the surgery. I ask for your prayers for those who will care for me after the surgery until I am able to care for myself.

I thought we had an understanding, you and me. I would take better care of myself, exercise every day, get outside every day, limit caffeine, eat real food, drink water. Okay, I’m not perfect but I’m better than I was. Yes, yes, I had coffee today, which for the record, was gross and I only drank 1/3 of it. It was SUPPOSED to be steeped tea. What happens when you go to the drive-thru…you get SCREWED at the drive-thru…

I’m not drinking as much water as I should…but I’m drinking some.

So, how about your end of the bargain, eh?

If I do the aforementioned, you are supposed to blanket me with deep, restful sleep for at least 7 hours. I’ll even get up to use the bathroom if I can slip back into sleep. But not lately. Jackass.

I don’t understand the problem. Room is cool. Relatively dark. Bedding and pjs are clean. To Do list is made for tomorrow. Clothes are laid out. WHAT’S THE PROBLEM?

WHY can’t I shut off this brain of mine…no wonder it’s addled…can I get a dimmer switch installed?

ARGH!

Well, as I’m not getting answers from you, I think I’ll do some research…maybe about dimmer switches… I’ll read my daily meditation and once I get my shoulders to come down from around my ears, I’ll go upstairs and try this blasted sleep thing again.

All my life I’ve had a love/hate relationship with food. I am a self-described food addict. When I eat, I tend to eat a lot and when I crave, it’s never for healthy food.

Something that I’ve been seeing a lot of lately is articles about foods you should “never” eat. Foods that are “poison” and foods that can kill. Seriously? Toast is evil? Give me a break.

I should eat better than I do. And I will admit that on occasion supper is a bag of Smartfood. Which really isn’t all that smart. I know what I need to do to eat healthier and better. The problem is being motivated enough to actually do it.

In just over two weeks I’m heading to southeastern British Columbia. A whole new way of life. A new culture, a new geography, new grocery stores, and a whole new level of panic and anxiety. I know my local grocery store. And I’m sure it won’t take me long to learn my new grocery store. But the fear is real.

I am not moving with any food. I’m taking some of my favourite tea with me, the rest I will buy when I get there. Stocking a pantry, buying spices and condiments is both exciting and terrifying. I’m taking reusable bags with me to never use a plastic shopping bag again.

I will buy cookwear when I get there. And bakeware. I’d like to stay I’ll plant a little garden, but the reality is, I likely won’t.

I’d love to homestead where I grow my own food. But the reality is I don’t have the knowledge, experience or motivation to do any of these things. And that’s okay.

I am recommitting myself to a pescatarian lifestyle. A pescatarian is a person who is a vegetarian but eats fish. I have the proper supplements so I will be healthier in myself and in my diet.

Yes, I’m fat. Yes, I shop in fat girl stores. I’d like to lose weight but I don’t think my body is ready to let go of a lot of the stress it’s been holding. If I was a betting person I’d say that my cortisol levels are extremely high, due mostly to the stress with which I am surrounded.

Once I get moved I will re-establish a healthy routine that will include exercise, yoga, meditation, prayer and silence. I will eat healthier than I am right now. Because I will be ready. The weather here has been mild but also slippery. I’ve fallen a couple of times in the last two weeks, and while the injuries were minor, it’s scared me, to the point where I don’t want to venture outside.

This morning it was raining. Rain in January scares me because when it changes it’s almost always to ice first, then snow. Sure enough a winter storm whipped up, and there’s a thin layer of ice beneath the snow outside.

I’m not sure why I’m so scared. I suspect, in part, it’s because I don’t want to arrive in my new pastoral charge physically damaged. They hired someone with all appendages intact, I’d like to arrive that way.

I’ve started bookmarking recipes again, especially ones that replace pasta noodles with veggies. That kind of thing makes me very happy. I’m looking forward to buying a soup pot and I have two special soup bowls that are coming with me.

My goal as I pack and prepare to move is to downsize and simplify my life. I don’t need much to be happy. Open space, uncluttered, is good.

I think I will be writing more regularly as I prepare to move. I may even blog at the end of each travel day. Only time and wifi will tell.